Peck's Bad Boy at the Circus eBook

Pa said: “I’ll tell you. You
feed the horses and other hay-eating animals on musty
baled hay, bought from contractors that may have had
it on hand for five years. How would you like
it if you were served with breakfast food that had
been stored in a warehouse until it was mildewed?
A horse or an elephant has feelings. Give them
baled hay, and when they are trying to pick out a
mouthful that is not spoiled, you drive along with
a load of nice new-mown timothy or alfalfa, and see
them make a rush for that load of hay, the way my ten-horse
team did the other day for that load of cornstalks.
Then the sacred cattle are hot under the collar because
of the fellows who use profanity. Can you imagine
a sacred cow trying to be good, and set a pious example
to the heathen animals, being patient when they have
to listen to swearing? You buy meat that is tainted
for the lions, who like fresh meat, and the jackal,
that only loves bad meat, gets the only sirloin in
the lot. Let me run the menagerie to-morrow,
and I will have Mr. Lion, the walking delegate, declare
this strike off.”

Well, they told pa to arbitrate the strike, and the
next day he had a couple of loads of timothy hay,
such as mother used to make, driven in and unloaded,
and the horses, elephants, camels, and things almost
set up a cheer for pa. The meat-eating animals
were given a picnic of the freshest beef, with a little
so decayed that it was only fit to be buried, for
the hyenas and jackals, and every animal was happy.
They did their turns better than ever, and the sacred
cattle almost acted devilish.

Now the animals have declared the strike off, and
they want to lick pa’s hand. The owners
of the show appreciate genius, and they have raised
pa’s salary and given him full charge of the
menagerie.

CHAPTER XIII.

The Circus Strikes the Quaker
City—­They Go on a Ginger Ale Jag—­Pa
Breaks Up an Indian War Dance
and Comes Near Being Burned Alive—­The
World’s Fair Cannibals
Have a Roast Dog Feast.

Ever since we knew the show was billed for Philadelphia
for a Saturday and that we should have to stay over
Sunday in that town, there has been symptoms of a
revolt. Everybody connected with the show has
a horror of being found dead in Philadelphia.
They claim it is too dead for live people, and not
very satisfactory to dead people.

A performer who was with the show last year says that
nobody but the newspaper people who had free tickets
attended the performances, and some of them wouldn’t
go in the tent unless the press agent promised to
set up a free lunch, with devilish ginger ale to drink,
and that the press people got riotous on ginger ale.
A ginger ale jag is terrible. When a man is full
of ginger ale his intestines loop the loop, and tie
up in knots, and gripe like cholera infantum, and unless
his friends hold him he goes out into the world and
wants to kill the women and children, and non-combatants.